


Red Visionary

by MintEnochian



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Asgard, Avengers - Freeform, F/M, Mind Stone, New Avengers, OC villain - Freeform, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Scarlet Witch - Freeform, Vision - Freeform, mcu - Freeform, scarlet vision - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-02 20:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14553345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintEnochian/pseuds/MintEnochian
Summary: Wanda Maximoff, the youngest member of the Avengers team, survived the battle against Ultron, the death of her twin brother, and the destruction of her native Sokovia. Now living in the Avengers facility with her comrades, she has a new home and a new family. Everything changed so quickly, and all Wanda has left of her old life is her grief, nightmares, and her powers. The same magic-like powers that changed her life forever, earned her a spot on the Avengers, and gave her an unbreakable link with the bearer of the Mind Stone.The Mind Stone isn't the only thing that ties Wanda to Vision. She finds herself happy in his company, enjoying their budding friendship. Of all of the Avengers, he is the one she trusts the most. He understands her and her powers in a way the others don't.None of the Avengers, not even Vision, can help her when her nightmares grow stronger. No longer harmless dreams, but bloodred visions haunted by a shadow. Pietro has returned, a ghost that only she can see. He claims to be real, but when he thinks she isn't watching, his face changes into something that is NOT her brother. Pietro begins to hunt the Avengers and tear them apart, and Wanda must have the courage to do the unthinkable.





	1. {Author's Note}

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is PG13, with minor swearing and obviously quite a bit of talking about losing siblings. There is depression, loss, and quite a bit of violence, even if it is PG13.
> 
> Another important sidenote is that Wanda is 17-18 in this fic, which is a reasonable guess for her canonical age in the MCU. Another reason that I chose that age was so that nobody would get butthurt about Wanda being in a relationship/dating.
> 
> This chapter takes place just a couple weeks after the battle against Ultron. In this timeline, the scene with the new Avengers lineup happens quite a while later. I'll be messing with a few movie scenes like that, rearanging them in order for some things to make sense due to Civil War trying to give us Scarlet Vision stuff that should have happened soon after Age of Ultron, but instead gave it almost a year later.
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for the next one! If you have any questions, feel free to ask them. You can also find me on Wattpad and Tumblr as MintEnochian.

This fanfiction is a re-upload of the first edition of Red Vision, with major edits. A good deal of the main plot points have been carried over, but the execution, pacing, and quality of writing have all been changed. There have also been several cover changes, and there is no guarantee that the current one will be final.

There has also been a title change from Red Vision to Red Visionary. This may not be a permanent change. The change is for several reasons, one of those being that Red Vision sounds a bit too much like Scarlet Vision, which is, of course, Wanda and Vision's ship name. Red Visionary is a name that Wanda holds in this fanfiction, much like Scarlet Witch being her name. It references her Visionary power, which plays a prominent role in the story.

Respecting canon is something I strive to do.

Concerning Wanda's powers. Canonically, the Mind Stone was used to unlock her powers, which were dormant inside of her and her brother. The Mind Stone did not give them their powers, it brought them to the surface. This is why she and her brother have such unique and wide-ranging powersets that do not directly correlate with the powers the Mind Stone has been shown to have.

Another important note is that Wanda is 17-18 in this fanfic, which is a reasonable guess for her canonical age in the MCU. One reason that I chose to have Wanda turn 18 in this fic was so that nobody would get upset about Wanda being in a relationship/dating. An added reminder is that this story is about the characters of Wanda and Vision, not the actors, so there is no problem with the "inappropriate age gap." For anyone that is still upset, despite this being a PG13 fanfic, this may not be the fanfic for you.

Next, Vision. He is not a robot. Being made of metal does not make him a toaster. He is an android, a synthetic human body. The mind inside that body is made of up TWO artificial intelligences, which are literally man-made brains. Man-made body, man-made brain, but he makes his own choices, has emotions just like Ultron and JARVIS, and most certainly will not be warming up your bread. In short, he has a soul and he has feelings.

A few warnings.

This fanfic is PG13, with minor swearing, heavy talk of depression, loss, and quite a bit of violence. There is also a great deal of sibling loss discussion. If any of these themes are upsetting, this may not be the fanfic for you.

Some timelining.

The very first chapter takes place just a couple weeks after the final battle against Ultron from Avengers: Age of Ultron. In this timeline, the end scene with the new Avengers lineup happens quite a while later. I'll be messing with a few movie scenes like that, rearranging them. This is in an attempt to make the pacing better, since Civil War was trying to give us Scarlet Vision content that should have happened soon after Age of Ultron, but instead had it happen almost a year later.

This fanfic can be found here, on Wattpad, or on Archive of Our Own, under the same username.

I hope you enjoy the long ride that will be Red Visionary. Any suggestions, questions, or comments can be asked within the comments section or on my wall.

-MintEnochian


	2. {Chapter One}

The bullets flew like shining silver birds through the air, though there was no sound of gunshots or helicopter blades. Just horrible, pressing silence as the bullets soared in slow motion.

Wanda Maximoff couldn't tell if she was sitting, standing, or even in possession of a body. She had sight though. If not through a pair of eyes, then by some other means, but she had sight.

The grey flickers of bullets was darkened by a sudden spray of dark red into the nearly empty landscape.

Blood.

Blood splattered onto floors devoid of decoration, blood flecked across bullets that still came through the silent air, blood flowed from the many holes that were appearing all over the body of her brother.

Wanda then knew she could not have a body, because she could not scream, no matter how hard she tried. She could not hear her screams, she could not taste anything but pain, she could not feel anything but agony ripping through her disembodied consciousness.

Sharp stinging erupted across her face--- wait, no, she didn't have a face... But now she felt other things, too. Wet trails across her cheeks. Scalp aching and sore. Voice cracking as she finally registered her own drawn out scream of misery.

Wanda wrenched herself awake, cutting off the dreadful noise coming from her trembling lips. She heaved herself into a seated position, tangled in the pale grey sheets, and covered her mouth with a hand, trying to hold back her shuddering gasps.

Her shoulders shook as she hunched in upon herself, hot tears dripping down her cheeks. Strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail clung to her forehead, damp with sweat.

"Just a dream," she whispered to herself in the darkness, her voice hoarse and cracking. She ran her fingers through her hair, repeating the words over and over in hushed tones. "Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream..."

She had started rocking herself at some point, back and forward, arms wrapped around her legs. She was so focused on her monologue that she didn't even notice her visitor. She started when a gentle hand touched her shoulder, the power instantly rising up inside of her like a snake, ready to strike.

"You alright, Wanda?" Natasha Romanoff stood over her, looking mildly concerned.

Wanda hesitated before speaking. For one, she wasn't sure what to say. She and Natasha usually only interacted through Clint. But Clint had gone home to take care of his newborn son after Ultron's defeat, and they hadn't spoken much since.

Clint trusts her, she told herself, and tried to think of what to say.

"No, you aren't." Natasha sighed. "Of course you aren't. Come on, I'll make you some tea." 

~~~

There were a few things that Wanda knew, for sure, about the Black Widow.

Firstly, she was a spy, and her trust only extended to a select few. Clint and Steve, for example.

Second, she had not completely forgiven Wanda for bringing her worst memories to the foreground of her mind, and she had definitely not forgiven her for doing the same to Bruce Banner.

And finally, Natasha Romanoff was awful at making tea.

Wanda had followed the redhead to the kitchen, trying to match her velvety tread, and had watched as the woman proceeded to fill a mug with steaming hot water from the tap, drop a teabag into it, and use a teaspoon to pulverize the teabag until the water was filled with chunks of floating herb.

She tried to adopt an expression of gratefulness as she was passed the mug, wrapping her fingers around the lukewarm ceramic. "Thank you," she whispered softly.

Natasha gestured to one of the stools by the island, and Wanda obediently sat, noting that Natasha opted to remain standing. The woman leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. Her expression was unreadable. Wanda began to grow uncomfortable as the silence stretched on, and resorted to taking a sip of her tea.

"I had a brother."

Wanda's gaze shot up, surprised by the odd choice of statement to break the silence.

Natasha's eyes were downcast as she continued. "His name was Alexei. We were separated as children. I barely remember him."

Her confusion only grew, these stunted breadcrumbs she was being thrown not forming any kind of pattern in her mind.

"He died," Natasha said bluntly, her crossed arms tightening slightly. "Shortly after we found each other again."

Wanda didn't know what to say. She supposed that was how all people felt. Nobody ever seemed to know what to say to her, and now she understood. "Sorry" really didn't seem like a good response.

"I lost a sibling that I didn't even have memories of. I was out of commission for weeks after that. I might understand what it's like to lose a brother." Natasha finally looked up, and their eyes met. "But I can't even begin to imagine what it's like to lose a twin."

Wanda quickly looked away, swallowing hard. She tried to blink back tears that threatened to spill, unable to formulate a response.

"Someone you spent your entire life with, shared your life with." She could feel the Widow's eyes on her, as though her gaze was tangible. "Your other half."

Wanda was suddenly filled with annoyance and anger. She hadn't followed Natasha to the kitchen to be reminded of everything she had lost, and she certainly hadn't come to be psychoanalyzed. "Your point?" She said, trying to put some of her anger into the words, but they were thick and muffled. The voice of someone trying to hold back tears.

"A part of you died, right alongside your brother." Natasha's eyes were hard, but not cold. "Why aren't you letting yourself mourn?"

All of her anger vanished, as if someone had unblocked a drain inside of her. It seemed as though it had also triggered a faucet in her eyes, because she felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. She stared at Natasha in silence, opening and closing her mouth in an attempt to say something, but no words came out.

"You've been skipping around the facility, pretending that everything is fine, but the second we look away, the truth comes out. You don't need to fake anything, Wanda."

Says the spy, Wanda thought to herself, sniffing once, but remaining quiet.

"Listen to me." Natasha leaned forward, forcing Wanda to look at her. "It is okay to be in mourning, Wanda. Nobody expects you to be able to bounce back from something like what you've experienced. Nobody."

It was as though a dam broke behind Wanda's eyes, and she let out a broken sob. She couldn't make herself look away from Natasha, even though her face was barely visible through all of the tears. She lifted her hands to hide her face, grateful for her long sweater sleeves. She cried into the soft material on her palms, her shoulders shaking.

It was several minutes before the tears started to slow, and eventually they stopped altogether. She sniffed again, finally lowering her hands.

Natasha was still watching her, but she was wearing an odd expression. "Come over here and wash your face, blow your nose."

Wanda did as she was told, standing and making her way around the island. She rolled up her sleeves hurriedly as Natasha turned the sink's tap on. The water felt cold on her skin, and even colder on her face, but she had to admit it did help her feel a bit better. Natasha handed her a paper towel that she mopped her face and hands with before blowing her nose.

"Feel better?" Natasha asked, glancing down at her.

Wanda nodded, hiccuping once.

"I always feel better after I cry, too. I think of it as a good emotional flush." Natasha hesitated, then opened her arms slightly.

Wanda was rather nonplussed, but she hesitantly crept forward and was accepted into an embrace. The comforting action felt foreign, especially coming from someone like the Black Widow, but it was also familiar. Natasha was probably the first person besides Pietro to hug her since she was a child.

Although she very much felt safe in the Widow's arms, something she never thought would be possible, she didn't want to make the situation uncomfortable, so she pulled back first. Her voice was thick and hoarse when she spoke. "Was it really that obvious that I was faking?"

Natasha's lips twitched in a faint smile. "Well, it was to me and Steve. The others kind of thought it was weird how quickly you seemed to bounce back. I think even Vision was a bit confused."

She ducked her head in embarrassment, sniffling. "I wasn't trying to be dishonest, I just... I didn't want to be a burden."

Natasha looked saddened when Wanda glanced up at her. "You aren't a burden to us, Wanda. It's you who has the burden." She placed a hand on Wanda's shoulder. "And it's a burden that we want to help you bear. And it's a burden some of us are already familiar with."

Wanda remembered how the conversation had started with a pang. "I'm sorry about your brother," she said, because how could she say nothing? Sorry was better than silence, at least.

"Thanks, Wanda. But I'm not the only one who's lost family. Steve knows what it's like, too."

Wanda's expression must have shown her confusion, because Natasha's expression saddened yet again.

"Steve's best friend was a man named James Barnes. They were so close, they didn't need to share blood to be brothers." Her voice was tinged with sorrow, but also something else, something Wanda couldn't place. "He was captured by HYDRA and experimented on. Steve went under and came out of the ice thinking he was dead."

Wanda felt tears well up again, unable to stop them. "That's... horrible," she managed, voice shaky.

"Worst part was, James Barnes wasn't dead. HYDRA turned him into a weapon. Just like they tried to do to you and your brother. Steve and Sam and I spent a good part of a year trying to track him down. The Winter Soldier. Brainwashed and broken."

Wanda couldn't think of anything to say for several long seconds. "Is there any way to bring him back?" She said eventually.

"We think so. Our first hint towards that was the fact that he saved Steve from drowning. We think he's breaking through HYDRA's programming. If we could get him back here, we might be able to break it completely."

Wanda's smile and surge of hope were short lived, at the Widow's next words.

"The only problem is finding him. He's a ghost, almost impossible to track."

"Maybe I could help," Wanda said meekly, unsure of how she would do any such thing, but wanting so desperately to be useful.

Natasha smiled down at her. "Maybe. You'll need some training before that, though." Her gaze hardened again. "And that's another thing I've been wanting to ask you, Wanda." She hesitated. "Do you really want to train? To be an Avenger?"

Wanda was taken aback by the question. Until now, she hadn't really thought she had an option. She would train to be an Avenger to make up for her involvement with HYDRA and Ultron. She glanced back at Natasha. "Shouldn't I?" She asked hesitantly.

Natasha seemed troubled by her response, her eyebrows furrowing. "It's not a crime to walk away. A lot of people in your position would want nothing more to do with this life. And no one would blame you if you felt that way."

"But..." She stopped, unsure of what she wanted to say. It took her a few seconds before she started again. "Clint, during the battle in Sokovia---," her voice cracked slightly when she said the name of her destroyed home. "Clint told me that if I decided to go out there and fight against Ultron, I would be an Avenger."

Natasha nodded slightly. "He told me about that."

"Well..." She hesitated. "I fought Ultron. I fought with the Avengers. And my brother died fighting Ultron." She swallowed, pausing before continuing. "And I avenged him." Tears dripped down her cheeks, but she didn't stop. "I wanted to make sure he didn't die in vain, so I avenged him. And I want to try to make sure that nobody else dies in vain."

"You want to be an Avenger."

"Yes."

~~~

Wanda was grateful that her tea had gone cold long ago, as it gave her an excuse to dump it down the sink. The Widow was surprisingly good at pep talks, but she couldn't make tea.

She was also grateful when Natasha walked her back down the hallway towards her room.

"Remember, it's okay to be mourning," Natasha reminded her as she reached the door to her own room. Wanda had nodded and the two quietly wished each other good night.

It was as she was continuing down the hallway towards her own room when she just about jumped out of her skin. A translucent figure had ghosted right through the wall on her right, about three feet in front of her. She exhaled in relief when the figure solidified into Vision.

"You scared me," she whispered, placing a hand on her heart, which was still pounding.

The raised outlines over Vision's brows furrowed and his expression morphed into apologetic in a heartbeat. "I apologize," he said softly. "It was not my intention to frighten you."

Wanda almost wanted to laugh, he somehow reminded her of a kicked puppy in that moment. "It's alright, I'm the one who should be sorry if I woke you up." Her eyes drifted up to fix on the glowing yellow gem on his forehead.

"No, no, you didn't. I was already awake." He looked curious now. "I heard voices and wanted to make sure everything was alright."

Wanda hesitated, but managed a small smile. "Everything is better," she told him. "Nothing to worry about."

Vision briefly looked doubtful, but seemed to accept her words. "If that's the case, I will return to my room."

She placed a hand on her doorknob, offering him a smile. "Good night, Vision."

He seemed hesitant to respond, but returned her smile. "Good night, Wanda."

She heard the faint sound of him phasing back through the wall, and opened her own door with a yawn. The windows showed no signs of light, but a quick glance at the clock on her wall told her it was well into the morning. She felt exhausted, probably from all of the crying, and immediately crawled onto the bed, pulling the soft grey sheets over her body.

Maybe it was the crying that helped, or Natasha's words, but Wanda fell asleep within seconds.


	3. {Chapter Two}

Wanda opened her eyes slowly, not wanting to be awake just yet. It had been so wonderful to have a period of dreamless sleep, and she struggled to sink back into unconsciousness for several minutes before finally giving up.

She stared at the wall, still laying on her side under the blankets, unwilling to leave the warmth of her bed just yet. She stayed like that for quite some time, half-formed thoughts drifting through her sleepy brain.

Eventually, she began to recall the previous night's happenings. Natasha's tea and chat. The Winter Soldier. Meeting Vision in the hallway.

The nightmare.

It certainly wasn't the first one she'd had. Even before Pietro's death, she'd had horrible dreams about loosing him. They had especially picked up during the enhancement experiments, where fear was one of the only constants.

Thinking about the experiments made her feel even worse, and out of habit she forced herself to focus on something else. She had just started to plan what she would wear for the day when she paused.

It's okay to be in mourning. Natasha's words came back to her alongside her tears.

She wondered if there was something wrong with her. Why couldn't she just let herself be upset? She had grieved the loss of her parents for several years, and that grief had fueled her vendetta against Tony Stark for several years. She'd lost before, and had felt that loss in her heart, and had never tried to hide those feelings.

Her thoughts became less sensible the longer she thought about it. Perhaps she was simply emotionally deadened from all of it. Maybe, in loosing Pietro, she had lost the thing that kept her strong and balanced, and now she was just a broken scale.

Maybe she was a horrible person.

She rolled over to watch her alarm clock's numbers blink, the red lines making showing the time as 11:02. She started trying to match her counting to the sixty seconds of each minute. By 11:21, she was in perfect rhythm. By 12:16, she was trapped in a trance, the counting droning through her head.

There was no room for thoughts of anything else in her mind. She couldn't shift her focus, not even for a second, or the rhythm would be broken and she'd have to start all over again. Counting to sixty. Measuring each minute.

The knock at her door forced her to jolt back to reality, and it was with that knock that she lost her perfect count. She forced herself to turn away from the clock, which now read 12: 43, to look towards the door.

"Come in," she said flatly, and sat up, instantly wishing she hadn't. Her head spun and her neck ached from staying in one position for so long.

The door slowly opened, and it was Steve's hesitant face that peered around it. "Hey... Natasha sent me. You been up long?" He offered her a smile.

"Since eleven," she said, and upon seeing the smile drop from his face, realized that this probably wasn't the best answer. She was still in her sleepwear, tucked under the covers, and obviously hadn't moved for nearly two hours. "I tried to fall back asleep," she said quickly, and forced herself not to bite her lip, a habit she always did when she was lying.

Some of the worry faded from Steve's blue eyes and his smile returned. "You missed breakfast, but Natasha said you probably needed the sleep, said you had a long night. We're having lunch right now if you want to join us."

She nodded numbly. "Sure," she answered, despite the fact that she didn't have any appetite. "I'll get dressed first," she added, and Steve gave a nod of understanding and one last smile before quietly closing the door behind him.

She pushed back the covers and reluctantly got out of bed, bare feet touching the soft carpet floor. Her mind was full of thoughts once again as she tugged her jeans on, leaving her pajamas strewn across her bed. 

It didn't take her long to realize that her two hours spent staring at the clock had been the same sort of attempt to distract herself as planning her outfit. Something to focus on and hide behind instead of dealing with the here and now. Another attempt at faking.

She chose a soft grey sweater from her dresser absentmindedly, and spent several minutes focusing on straightening the black lacing in the back. No wonder Steve's smile had dropped. Natasha had said that both of them could see right through her. She'd proven a point by fibbing to him. She was still trying to fake her emotions.

She closed her eyes and tugged the sweater over her head, pushing her arms into the long sleeves. She found the slits in the cuffs and tucked her thumbs through. Pulled her hair out from under the collar.

She glanced up and found her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. She quickly focused back on the sweater, adjusting it, but her eyes soon drifted upwards again. She stared at her own face, wondering if the fake face was hiding just underneath. Maybe she was already wearing it.

She decided not to wear makeup today. No masks.

Her gaze lifted to the rat's nest that was her hair, and she quickly began to focus on it. Brushing it through, bringing out the natural loose waves. She brushed for too long, long enough that she realized she was stalling. Yet as soon as she had the thought, she began to part her hair. It took several minutes before she was happy with the intricate fishtail braid down her back.

She again wondered if there was something wrong with her. Why was she so determined to distract herself? To put so much thought into such little tasks that she couldn't focus on anything else?

Even as she had these thoughts, she took her time pawing through her sock drawer, looking for a particular black pair.

Enough, she told herself as soon as she had pulled them on. That's enough. Stop stalling. Her thoughts darkened even further when a quick glance at the clock told her that it was 1:17, and she'd been procrastinating for another thirty minutes.

She forced her feet into motion, slowly walking towards the door. When she placed her hand on the doorknob, a rather large part of her wanted to turn back and check the clock's time just once more. Just once. But she ignored it and wrenched the door open, pushing out into the hallway.

"Good afternoon, Wanda."

She jumped, barely able to stop herself from yelping. For a second, she wondered if Steve had been waiting for her, intending to walk with her to breakfast, but the voice wasn't Steve's, and as she turned she saw that it was Vision who was walking down the hall towards her, a faint smile on his lips.

"Good afternoon," she parroted back, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice. Normally, she wasn't so easily startled, but Vision seemed to make almost no noise when he moved, like Natasha, and Clint when he actually tried.

She'd noticed that he'd started to wear casual clothing recently. He no longer wore his bodysuit and cape every day, but simple pants and jumpers over collared shirts. He was fitting in more and more, becoming part of the team.

Wanda realized she'd been staring at him silently, and quickly dropped her gaze, unsure of what to say. She almost wished she could duck back into her room, claim to have forgotten something, but she had put her foot down. No more procrastinating. No more faking.

"I like your hairstyle."

She glanced back up, surprised, and met his blue eyes. "What--- oh. Thank you..." She reached up to finger the fishtail, rubbing the band securing it briefly.

"It's very intricate," he added, and Wanda latched on to the faint wisp of conversation, desperate for anything at this point.

"It's called a fishtail, it's a kind of braid." She managed a weak smile at his intrigued expression. "I'm guessing you don't have much experience with braiding hair."

"I'm afraid not," he said, tilting his head, smile growing.

She laughed quietly, surprising herself. "Maybe I could show you sometime. Or Clint could. He knows a lot about hair styling."

Vision gave a short chuckle. "I believe he went undercover as a stylist once." He met her eyes again. "I'd like that." She was momentarily confused before he continued. "I'd like to learn how to braid."

Wanda blushed slightly, and wasn't even sure why. She didn't let the silence stretch for very long. "Are you headed to the kitchen?"

"I am, actually. Are you?" At her nod, he gestured down the hallway. "Perhaps we could accompany each other."

"I'd like that," she said, repeating his words with a smile.

They set off at a casual pace, Wanda feeling ridiculous with her arms swinging limply at her sides. She always felt less than graceful around Vision, who always seemed to be poised and perfectly balanced, always so sure.

"I assume that you are excited to see Clint again," Vision said conversationally as they walked, and Wanda nearly tripped over her own feet in surprise.

"What?" She gasped out, putting a hand on the wall to stop herself from face-planting.

"Are you alright?" He looked worried, hands half outstretched as if he didn't know what to do with them.

"I---I'm fine, what did you say, about Clint?"

"Agent Barton arrived early this morning, he is in the kitchen."

The words, said so matter-of-factly, seemed so impossible. "I thought he was at home... his family..."

"He has returned to help Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff train us to be a team," Vision supplied. "Are you sure you're alright, Wanda? You seem unsettled."

"I just... I didn't know he was coming back. I thought..." She trailed off, remembered their last hug and goodbye. She'd cried, of course, and Clint had promised she would be able to come visit the farm, but there had been no mention of him returning.

"It seems as though retirement does not suit Agent Barton," Vision said, offering her a smile.

~~~

Wanda was able to convince Vision that she was fine, and they had set off once again for the kitchen, making small talk here and there. Vision apparently liked to read, and they discussed a book they were both familiar with for a while.

It wasn't long before they reached the doorway and could hear voices. Her heart leapt into her throat when she heard the familiar drawl. She tried to retain her composure as she and Vision entered the kitchen side by side.

He was leaning against the island, facing the doorway. He wore simple jeans and a purple tee-shirt, and Natasha, Steve, and Sam were all gathered around chatting. The second she walked in, his gaze flickered towards her, and a huge grin crossed his face. He opened his arms wide.

Wanda forgot all about retaining her composure and darted forward, right into his embrace. She laughed through joyful tears and he laughed along with her, holding her tightly.

"Missed you, kid." He murmured the words into her hair, softly enough that the others wouldn't hear.

"I missed you, too," she whispered back, immensely glad she hadn't worn her usual eye makeup. She would have looked like a raccoon. When she finally pulled back, they smiled at each other.

"Heard you and Tasha have been having fun," he said, tickling her nose with the end of her braid.

She giggled and swatted at his arm, feeling more like a kid than she had in years.

"Us ladies have to stick together," Natasha said from her seat on the counter, playfully kicking Clint's shoulder.

Clint batted at her, laughing, and managed to maneuver Wanda so that she was leaning against the island with him, tucked under one of his arms.

"Well, it's good to be back. Can't wait to start your training," he said, giving her a nudge.

"I didn't even know you were coming back," Wanda said quietly.

"Neither did we," Steve put in, smiling.

"Yeah, this crazy guy right here broke into the facility at six in the morning and made us breakfast. Surprised us all." Sam shook his head. "How he got past all of the security, I'll never know."

"I'm stealthy," Clint supplied, and they all laughed.

Wanda highly doubted that Natasha had been unaware of Clint's plan to return, but she felt better knowing that everybody else had also been in the dark.

"Speaking of training, we all have fittings for gear today." Steve glanced over at the clock on the wall, and it took a good deal of Wanda's willpower not to follow his gaze. "They're at three and they need everybody down at the training hall."

"That gives us plenty of time to hang out," Clint said to Wanda, winking. "You still owe me a game of chess."

"We're going out for a run, so we'll see you there." Steve and Sam were both dressed in running clothes and waved as they exited the kitchen, quickly lowering their voices once they were out the door.

Wanda took a slow breath, still tucked against Clint's side, feeling relaxed and genuinely happy. She knew she wasn't faking those emotions, and she hoped nobody thought that she was.

She was glad to have Clint back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Clint's back!
> 
> Since there are several things that aren't revealed in the MCU movies, there will be a certain amount of guesswork in this fic. Some of it will be comic based, and some of it will be based on the actors. Things like Wanda's birthday and Clint's past as a makeup artist are based on the actors. Get ready for Wanda to have weird thumbs.
> 
> This is definitely a slow fic, building up to everything in the long run. Hopefully I've fed you enough Vision interaction in this chapter to keep you hooked. He's definitely a texture person and he's totally amazing at doing hair, fite me.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, look for the next chapter soon (hopefully next week)! It'll be mainly Wanda and Clint based, and mostly fun. Mostly.


	4. {Chapter Three}

"You remember how to play?"

"Of course."

~~~

One month earlier, Wanda was tucked under Clint's arm, being led into the living room of the Avengers facility. She was unfamiliar with the layout. She'd avoided places like the living room for fear of being forced into human interaction. She still didn't feel particularly safe at the Avengers facility, not with Tony Stark around.

Thankfully, the room was empty except for Natasha. The Black Widow was sitting on the edge of the couch, twirling a red pen through her fingers like a tiny baton. She offered Clint a smile when she saw him, and her eyes fell on Wanda.

Wanda offered her best attempt at a smile, though her eyes watered when she tried to meet the woman's gaze. She forced down the urge to hide behind Clint. She was already half hidden, pressed against his side.

Clint was one of the only people who could get close enough to touch her.

Clint was one of the only people who seemed to want to.

"Hey, Tasha, game of chess? I was gonna show Wanda how to play." Clint's words caught Natasha's attention, and she finally lifted her heavy stare from Wanda.

"Why not," she said with a shrug. "I've got about an hour before I have to leave."

Soon, Wanda was seated on the wide couch beside Clint, Natasha having moved to take the chair opposite the table between them. Wanda had never paid much attention to the chess set on the table, but now examined it.

There were two colours of pieces on the board. One set was brown, the other was a pale blonde, and they were both made out of some sort of glossy wood. Each set had a row of identical short pieces and a second back row of more unique pieces.

She'd admitted to Clint that the only "board" game she'd ever played was card games, and he had immediately convinced her that she should learn to play chess. So here she was.

"So, normally in chess, the pieces are black and white. This set, however, was hand carved by yours truly." Clint dramatically gestured to himself, earning an eyeroll from Natasha and a faint smile from Wanda. "The brown wood stands in for black and the tan wood stands in for white. White always goes first."

He gestured towards Natasha, who was sitting on the side with the white pieces. "So, Natasha will go first when we play. The goal of chess is to take out your opponent's king and take other pieces out along the way. Easy so far, right?"

She nodded faintly, unwilling to look up from the board in case she met Natasha's stare again.

"So, the first rows on each side, the eight identical pieces, those are pawns. They can only move forward one space at a time, except for their first turn, where the player can choose to move them forward two spaces. Pawns can only take other pieces that are diagonal from them, and they can't move backwards."

She nodded when he looked down at her, silently questioning if she had understood. Thus, he plowed on.

"The second row, going from the outside to the inside, has the castle, the knight, the bishop, and the king and queen. Castles are easy, they can only move in straight lines, but for however many they want until they take an enemy piece or are stopped by an ally piece. Bishops are the same except that they can only move in diagonal lines."

Again, Wanda nodded silently when he looked to her. He continued.

"The knights are harder to understand. They can make any variation of a four block 'L' shaped move, and can even hop over other pieces. They have to land on a piece to take it." He demonstrated for this piece, instead of just pointing to it. He moved it in several L shaped variations. "And then there's the king and queen."

She focused on the two unique pieces, side by side. She couldn't tell which of them was which until Clint did it for her.

"This," he said, tapping on the tallest piece, crowned with a cross, "is the king. It can only move one square, but in any direction. It can't ever move into a check position, and all of the other pieces have to protect it. If your opponent's pieces get it stuck and there's no way to stop it from being taken, it's called checkmate."

Clint's grin was wide as he picked up the last piece. "This is the queen. The single-most powerful piece in chess. It can move in any direction, any distance, until it takes or hits another piece. Even though it can't jump like the knight, it's still the most valuable piece on the board. Loosing your queen doesn't necessarily mean you'll lose---."

"But it sure as hell makes it harder to win," Natasha said, and Wanda glanced up to see her grinning slyly at Clint, who rubbed his hands together and grinned cheekily back.

"Think you get it?" He asked her, and she yet again nodded. "Tasha and me, we've played a lot of chess together. Good thing I've got you here as a good luck charm."

That caused her to blink. She'd never been called anything of the sort. If anything, people avoided her like a black cat. Or at least, she avoided other people.

Clint and Natasha played for nearly thirty minutes, and their pacing was wild. They would go from lightning fast capturing of each others' pawns to slow consideration on moves for minutes at a time. In the end, Clint had one castle, his queen and king, and a single pawn who was stuck face to face with one of Natasha's own.

Natasha, on the other hand, had both bishops, one knight, several pawns, and her royal couple. She had started to smile when she took Clint's castle, but it was short lived. In a matter of moves, Clint's queen had darted around the board and he'd crowed "checkmate" to his partner.

The pair had exchanged several taunts over the game, but Natasha seemed to be a gracious looser. She had shaken her head in exasperation at Clint's celebratory dance, which looked to be an imitation of both a headless chicken and a stampeding horse. "He's just excited because he rarely wins."

Wanda felt exposed and vulnerable without Clint next to her, especially with Natasha speaking directly to her. She ducked her head, allowing her hair to swing forward.

"My good luck charm saved me," Clint had said as he came to sit back down beside her. She managed to return his happy smile.

~~~

"You sure? It's been a while since we played." Clint gave her a wink. "Wouldn't want you claiming ignorance as your way out."

"Trust me," she said, smiling proudly. "I remember."

He gave her an appraising look. "If that's the case... your move."

The game began, Wanda making careful moves. She was quite excited when she managed to take one of Clint's bishops, and it didn't seem like it had been a calculated loss, which brightened her spirits even more. The victory was short lived when his castle decimated half of her pawns, but she was proud of the taken bishop that sat beside the board.

She was so focused that she didn't remember their audience. When she moved her queen forward and called out her first "check," there was a short round of applause from Natasha, and an appreciative noise from Vision. Even if Clint's king easily dodged it, she kept her queen tailing him.

The game culminated in an epic fault on her part. She wasn't careful enough with her queen and Clint's king took it when it got too close, and her knight wasn't able to move to take out Clint's own before a checkmate ensued. By that point, both sides of the table were littered with taken pieces, almost equally brown and tan.

Clint offered his hand to her across the table, grinning. "Good game," he told her.

She reached out and took it, smiling back. "Good game," she replied as they shook hands.

"My turn," Natasha announced, and promptly booted Clint out of the chair. Wanda instantly recoiled, slightly terrified of facing the Black Widow in anything, but Clint wandered over to her side and plopped down on the couch beside her.

"We can team up, Wanda, don't worry."

"Chess is not a team game," Natasha said, but Clint stuck out his tongue at her.

As she had expected, Natasha steamrolled her, but she actually found herself enjoying the match, especially with the two agents explaining strategies and special moves to her while they played. It was more informative than the last match, which had been fun and lighthearted.

It came as a surprise to the three of them when Vision asked if he could face the Black Widow in a game. She shrugged, glancing at the clock. "Steve and Sam should be back soon, fittings are at three. We've got time for another game."

Wanda and Clint scooted down on the couch, giving Vision room to face off against Natasha. They both watched as the board was reset, and the battle began.

Vision went first, and the initial moves made by both of them were swift and sure, but it soon became much slower and more thoughtful as they both strategized. Natasha was pulling all of the special moves she had in her game with Wanda, but Vision wasn't nearly as clueless. He parried several of her more dangerous moves, seeming unfazed by the Widow's best attempts.

Eventually, the death toll began to raise. Both sides of the table were once again covered with taken pieces, nearly equal losses on both sides. The match had become something intense, with furrowed brows and long periods of concentration before each move was made.

She found herself watching Vision carefully as he played. She took note of how his eyes dancing across the board, how he folded his hands after each move. How the yellow gem in his forehead pulsed with light occasionally.

By the time Sam and Steve walked in at 2:45, Sam breathless and sweaty, Steve looking slightly windswept, the game had gotten really intense. Natasha and Vision each had so few pieces left, just queens and kings and trapped pawns. The two boys quickly and quietly excused themselves for quick showers before fittings.

Even by the time they returned, just five minutes before three, the game still hadn't finished. Almost everyone jumped when Vision finally broke the silence. "I believe we have reached a stalemate, Agent Romanoff."

Everyone was a bit surprised by this news, but the two players did indeed seem to be out of moves. There was a brief moment of silence before Natasha offered her hand to Vision, repeating Clint's words from the first and second games. "Good game, Vision."

"Likewise, Agent Romanoff," Vision replied, shaking hands with the Widow just as James Rhodes entered the scene, leading a literal troupe in behind him.

"Sorry to interupt," he said. "The prep team's here."

Everyone was moving forward to greet Rhodes and the team when Clint tapped her on the shoulder and led her back through the kitchen, snagging a large, bulky yellow envelope off of the counter as he shepherded her just through the doors into the hallway.

They swung shut, cutting off some of the sound from the living room, and Clint smiled. "Didn't want to forget about this in all of the hullabaloo out there." He handed it to her.

She was surprised by how light it was, despite the large size, and carefully tore the top open. Glancing inside, she saw several electronics.

"Phone, laptop-tablet, communication equipment, chargers. All of it comes with unlimited data, super compact size, all that jazz." He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Would have had them to you earlier, except I sent them in for a search. Made sure that there was no spyware, from friend or foe."

She met his eyes and her stomach twisted as she pulled out the phone, which was lightweight and had the Stark Industries logo on the back. "Stark," she said quietly.

"No matter what, you know you can count on him," Clint said. "He might be a giant ass a lot of the time, but he's loyal as hell and you can usually trust him. I didn't find any kind of added technology on any of it, from anyone."

The knots in her gut untied, realizing that she had overreacted and had been swift to assume the worst of Stark. Even now that she knew that her parents' deaths hadn't been his direct fault, she still harbored a grudge against him. He didn't get the name "Merchant of Death" from being a saint.

Then again, she wasn't exactly a saint herself.

She shoved those thoughts away, meeting Clint's eyes. "Thank you," she said softly. "I really appreciate it. I appreciate everything you've done for me, I know I don't deserve any of it."

He waved a hand in the air as if to brush away the words. "We all do stupid shit as kids. I don't have a clean record either, kid. What matters is change, and you're changing a lot." He wrapped her in a hug.

Wanda hadn't had a father figure in her life since she was a young girl. The scientists from HYDRA hadn't come anywhere close, she had no relatives, and her own father was, of course, dead. But Clint, the father of three, just exuded dad jokes and fatherly love, and she had no idea how she had been lucky enough to be a receiver of it.

"Go on," he said after she had pulled back. "You've got time to go stash those in your lair. I'll cover for you." He winked and pushed back through the doors and she couldn't help but smile at him.

It was really, really wonderful to have Clint back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE
> 
> ~~~
> 
> If you hate chess, I really, really apologize. Chess was not supposed to take up 1500 words of this chapter. It will, however, be a largely revisited plot point and have some emotional symbolism.
> 
> If you hate flashbacks, I also apologize. I think it was a needed showing of how Wanda has gotten a bit more comfortable with human (Avenger) interaction.
> 
> If you liked this chapter, BE SURE TO BERATE ME TO WRITE MORE, cuz dear lord do I procrastinate. If I had a Pokemon move, it would be Procrastinate. I'm doing pretty well, with three good(?) chapters out in a pretty short period of time.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. The next chapter will detail costume fittings and stuff, and also feature some side characters you might recognize. I don't watch Agents of SHIELD anymore so it might be inaccurate as heccc. Oh well.


End file.
